Drama Queen

No, this isn’t about my friend The Queen. She abhors drama, unless it’s in a book or TV show. No, this is about Shakespeare!!

I love reading the works of Shakespeare. Very few works stir my soul as much as his do. I suppose being Hispanic and having the gift of talking with my hands lends itself to interpreting Shakespeare. Either that, or I just like living vicariously through literature. It’s a toss-up.

Right now, Eldest’s class is dissecting Hamlet. I was totally jazzed about this, because I have studied the play many times, with different teachers as well as helping other students in college with papers and the like. I was READY FOR THE CHALLENGE!!

Until…

Eldest: Mom, sorry, but I can’t let you help me with this.

Me: Wha….??

Eldest: Our teacher wants us to do this blind, write the first thing that we think of for each passage.

Me: (still not grasping the concept) But….

Eldest: (smirking a bit) Sorry mom…

Me: Sigh….

So much for me helping my kids with something I actually know. Let’s face it: Statistics drives me into hysterics and makes me want to cut someone. Ditto for Physics (stop glaring, LC LtC). Just once I want to be the one the kids seek for homework help….

Until then, I will content myself with being the lead Drama Queen around here.

SOMEONE GET ME SOME CYBER SMELLING SALTS!!! 😀

Sunday Sithy

Well, it has rained all weekend, which is a blessing around here. Like any normal woman I asked where the heck this was back in the summer. So, I am going to enjoy today with a wonderful cup of coffee and/or tea and leave you with a Sithy:

Hope y’all enjoy your Sunday!! 😀

To Bling, or Not to Bling

Every year Hubby’s work has a holiday ball. We attend, mostly because it’s the only night of the year when we can get all dressed up. This year I was not attending obviously, and very glad that I didn’t have to hunt for yet another evening gown, when my friend, whose hubby doesn’t care to go, decided on a fabulous idea: our “circle” of wives gets together, dressed to the nines, for an evening out on the town. We are talking limousine and champagne here, people!

So the question is, do I wear bling? So many gilded lilies can make people blind, you know 😉

Weird Conversations, and Why I Shouldn’t Be Allowed to Talk Before I Have Coffee

I swear, sometimes it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed. Last night I went to bed rather late, since Eldest was practicing her Parade and March stuff for ROTC in the kitchen, and right as I fell asleep I got an anxiety attack, so I laid in bed waiting for an hour for it to subside, thinking stupid existentialistic crap that probably solved the world’s problems, but I promptly forgot after dreaming about narwhals. Why narwhals? Because Eldest had been talking about them a couple of days ago. Crap like that just lies in wait to assault my REMs.

This morning I got up, and tripped over the little dog as I made my way with one eye open to the coffeemaker. You would think I could not screw that up, right? But noooo…. instead of creamer I poured lemon juice into my cup of coffee, not looking because A) the bottles are similar in color and size, and 2) the dog was barking to be let out. I’m hiding the bottle of lemon juice in the back of the fridge from now on.

So, I have my second cup with creamer, just in time to Skype with Hubby. YAY!! So, we talk about stuff going on over there and soon enough we are all, “Oh I miss you honey!” and “I miss you too!” and then we talk of how some stuff over there is so weird and suddenly for no reason I say:

I know! I just don’t understand why they (Muslims) would want 72 virgins. I mean, that just doesn’t make sense to me. I would rather have 72 hookers. They would know what they are doing, right?

And Hubby just looks at me with a lot of pity, because that part of the conversation had absolutely nothing to do why we miss each other. Or maybe it did, and I missed it. All I know is that today is a three pot of coffee day and I am soooo going to have a nap.

Oh, Christmas Tree….

How lovely are your branches? Well, it depends, really. Growing up in a very small town in the mountains of Puerto Rico, we didn’t have access to Christmas pine trees, so my mom would decorate whatever potted tree she had not transplanted yet with those wonderful gaudy multi-colored Christmas lights, and some mirrored ornaments. We girls didn’t care what ornaments and lights were on it, as long as mom and dad lit that sucker up at night, turning off all the lights in the living room so we could sit and STARE at the colorful spectacle. Those were some lovely nights.

Once we moved to Texas, though, my mom decided the tree was going to be a decorator vehicle. Everything matched, and while it was beautiful every year, I still missed the days of just the big bulb lights and glass ornaments. Once I was married, though, I would be more artistic with the tree, even to the point of not having a tree at all, using a huge broken branch to hold ornaments one year. And then I got into the mom rut: making a well-matched tree. And so was the pattern established, until I read this post at Innocent Bystanders.

So, I’m digging out all of my Star Trek™ ornaments, and the mismatched glass balls, and the multi-colored lights, and the crappy fuzzy tinsel garland, and every single ornament the kids have made since they started school, and I will let the kids throw it together the way they like it.

Because I want them to sit in a darkened house, looking up at the Christmas tree in wonder, the same way I did.

Color My World

I was struck today by a beautiful quote I read by the artist, Marc Chagall.

In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s pallette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.

Most of us are concrete about such things as color. Leaves are green, skies are blue, clouds are white (around here, we prefer them grey!). But emotions, charged or subtle, have colors too. When we are sad, we are blue. When we are mad, we see red. When we are envious, we turn green, unless we have had too much alcohol. Then it’s literal and not figurative. But love? Is the color of love that deep dark red that flows through our veins? Is it the soft blue of a calm lake? Could it be the bright green of the new buds of Spring? Or maybe the blazing orange of a bonfire? Perhaps, the dark glowing umber in the smoldering embers?

Courtesy of Matus at Deviantart

The truth is, everyone sees the color of love differently, because love is not as easily defined as anger, or jealousy, or sadness. I close my eyes and try to picture what love’s true color is in my mind. And as the pallette of emotions drips its paints on my heart and soul, I come to the realization that love, true love, is simply colorblind. 🙂

Ghosts in the Machine

I swear my appliances are possessed. My dishwasher decides when to turn on, and IF she wants to leak. My microwave? Her light dims if I touch the door in a certain fashion. The filter in the refrigerator decides it needs changing one day, but not the next. The stove is the only thing that works in my kitchen without a glitch. The washing machine talks if she is…. agitated. And the vacuum cleaner? Let’s just call her Jaws.

At least I’m used to their little quirks and complaints. Where some people talk to their plants, I talk to my appliances. I soothe them before turning on a cycle, and I tell them they did a great job after they are done. I even buy the expensive cleaners for them, and make sure to keep them spic and span.

I’ve seen too many movies where they can turn on you for being an ingrate. I don’t want to take chances 😉

Word to Your Mother!

Saturday I took the kids to IHOP, since I was in no mood to cook after an eight hour drive. As usual, there must be music, and Eldest was scrolling through the XM stations when I screeched at her to stop.

Moon Unit Zappa’s Valley Girl was on!!

Like oh my god!

Like, totally!

It’s like so bitchen!

Grody to the max!

Gag me with a spoon!

Like, fer sure….

Totally!

The kids listened to it with deer-caught-in-the-headlights looks and Eldest asked me, “Like, how old is this song?”

And smartipants that I am, I said, “Like, totally thirty years old!”

Sometimes I get the feeling the current generation thinks they invented the words like and totally. They looked surprised to learn that certain idioms they use have been around for decades. Some, like swag, are new to me. That one still confuses me, and drives Son up the wall whenever he hears it. Lately I have seen the terms beast and boss being used. I always thought a beast was a bad thing, or an X-Men character. How little I know, right?

But all that got me to thinking…. what is to stop me from being an etymological trendsetter?? So, I thought about it, and have come up with the coolest phrase evah!!

EPIC ENTROPY!!

I tried it on the kids this morning, and got a blank look for my efforts. But not to worry. It will catch on. Momma always has the last word, and that’s epic entropy 😉

Things I Learned This Thanksgiving

No Thanksgiving is ever the same in our family. But here are some things I learned this time around:

1. My family prefers apple pies over cherry or pumpkin. They are heretics.
2. Baking the turkey in an oven bag is a lifesaver.
3. A turkey STILL only has two drumsticks, so do a lottery next time to determine who gets them.
4. Avoiding the “What the hell is that supposed to mean??” question will make for a very peaceful day.
5. It is perfectly acceptable to lay about in a comatose state. It is also acceptable to rise from comatose state to get more food to further enhance the comatose state.

I hope y’all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Now I am off to the mall with the girls.

Prayers are welcome 😉

Saturday Obligatory Post

I shall be travelling again today, so here:

Courtesy of Mrfixit 😉